


Finish the Conversation

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, FitzSimmons is canon biatch, Flirting, Fluff, Jemma Simmons Has No Chill, Morning After, and Fitz doesn't have much either, possessive!Simmons, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 10:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6700819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They sat together in her room, staring thoughtfully ahead at his picture of space, balanced on crates of his belongings that had been evacuated from his room... She was surprised when Fitz broke the silence with:</p><p>“Are you usually that…loud?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finish the Conversation

That night (or the next; with no sleep, it was hard to tell) they sat together in her room, staring thoughtfully ahead at his picture of space, which had been lovingly balanced on crates of his belongings that had been evacuated from his room. He could have moved back by now, if he’d wanted to: the structure was sound, after all. But he was in no rush.

As Fitz drew his finger slowly up and down her arm, Simmons leaned against him and smiled contentedly. It wasn’t an awkward silence, per se, but one with many questions hanging over it. A lot of these questions involved worry for the new day, for Daisy and Hive and whether they’d be good enough to figure out what needed to be figured out, in time to stop what needed to be stopped. Whatever those things were.

At least, that was a lot of what was going around Simmons’ mind, so she was surprised when Fitz broke the silence with:

“Are you usually that…loud?” 

“What?” She snorted, wondering if he meant what she thought he must. 

“The other night…you were very… _loud.”_

A sly grin crept onto her face. _The other night._ Replaying it in her head, all the goofy love, her expression lost its salacious edge.

“I was having fun,” she explained, beaming widely. 

“That’s good-

“Besides,” she continued, shifting onto her side and staring at his lips, contemplating kissing him again. “I wanted to be encouraging. You looked like you were concentrating very hard.” 

He barely had a chance to blush before she had pulled herself onto his lap.

“Why do you ask?” she wondered, her eyes heavy and smokey and desirous. “Do you like it when I’m _loud?”_

She leant right over, until her lips were all but touching his ear, and moaned softly. Just enough to remind him – just in case he needed it. She sat back and bit her lip, extremely satisfied with Fitz’ reaction, which was to bite his own lip and groan silently and let his head fall backward, against the wall.

“Geez, Jemma, give a guy a break,” he muttered. Relenting, she rolled off to the side, so that she wasn’t putting pressure on _certain areas,_ and leant across his chest instead, picking at his top button until he took her hands in his own and they moved and switched and exchanged and brushed each other like a dance.

“So you had fun,” Fitz repeated. “It was good. You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“You’re not going easy on me because it was my first?” 

“What? I didn’t know it was your first!” 

“Yes you did.”

“Yeah…I did. Well, I didn’t _know._ I guessed. Like I said, I was trying to be encouraging.”

Fitz groaned, out loud this time, and dropped her hands.

“How bad was it?” 

“Not at all!” Simmons took them back. “Fitz, I promise, it was very good. I only guessed because I’ve known you for a decade and you’ve never had a girlfriend and…well to be honest, I’m a little surprised you prepositioned me like that. I was half expecting you’d want to marry me first or something.”

“Why on _Earth_ would you be expecting that?”

She shrugged again. 

“I don’t know. You’re just sweet like that. Thought you wouldn’t want to take advantage or offend my sensibilities or whatever other sweet nonsense that head of yours gets caught up in.”

Fitz snorted.

“You? Sensibilities?” 

“I know!” Simmons rolled her eyes. “I know. Especially after our first kiss. I mean. Wow. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“In the _lab_ too.” Fitz covered his eyes. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh, don’t be. It’s paid itself off.” 

Fitz gasped, scandalised.

“Jemma. Simmons. You’ve had sex dreams about me.”

“And you haven’t?”

Fitz closed his mouth and stared ahead again, at the picture of space.

“Was I in the lab too?” Simmons wondered, crawling up his chest again, taking her sweet time to press her body against him. Fitz held his silence, again, until he had composed himself enough to stay on his original line of questioning.

“So…what was good about it?” 

“The kissing. The kissing was very good. And, just, the touching. All of it.” 

As she spoke, Simmons eyed his neck. She had managed to pop his collar open, not-so-accidentally, so there it rested, ready to be kissed until he threw this conversation out the window. He intertwined his fingers with hers and pulled them aside, a silent _down, girl,_ and she smirked to herself. He knew her too well. But of course, she was reminded of – and determined about – their new goal. _Finish the conversation._

“So just…everything except the actual sex part?” Fitz checked. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Simmons let her gaze wander down his surprisingly muscular arms, to where their hands lay interlocked in his lap. She almost purred as she studied them. “You certainly know what you’re doing with those fingers of yours.”

“Ew, Jemma, I have to work with those.” 

Simmons chuckled as she unfolded one of his hands, and turned it over, and flexed each of his fingers individually. She’d lost track of which one had been doing which work, but she had each of them to thank for her fantastic night.

“Not anymore, you don’t,” she announced. “They’re mine.”

Simmons brought his hand up to her lips, and kissed each finger one by one. She inhaled sharply as his other hand brushed against her hip, making its way up under her shirt.

“What?” Fitz wondered innocently as, exaggerating her surprise at his daring, she stared him right in the face with a hanging jaw. “Leftie was feeling left out.”

“Ooh, you’re cheeky when you’re being praised.” 

“Don’t you mean cocky?” 

She slapped his pectoral, frustratedly awarding him the point. He grinned – a shit-eating grin if ever she had seen one.

“Don’t get too comfortable, lover boy,” she warned. “I’ve got some constructive criticisms too.” 

“Criticisms?” he challenged. In a flash he pulled her further down the bed so that she was lying flat, with a pillow under her back, and him holding himself over her like a tiger ready to pounce. Still grinning. “Like what?”

From heavily lidded eyes, she stared up at him. Her heart was starting to race and she was already feeling that soft, melty, warm feeling she got when endeared by him. Stretching her grin out to match his, she straightened her backbone. She hadn’t intentionally gone easy on him the night before; she’d just been eager to take the next step, and giddy in love. But she was a proud and experienced woman, and if he wanted a challenge, she could step it up a notch. (Just one notch, she promised herself. For now.)

“What are you doing?” Fitz’ cocky grin dropped when he noticed her expression straighten out. She grabbed his collar before he could retreat too far, and pulled him back so that his nose was all but touching hers.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she hissed, smiling in case it was necessary to reassure him that she wasn’t actually mad. He might be doing unexpectedly well, but that didn’t mean all his insecurities had suddenly disappeared.

“I’m…staying right here?” Fitz guessed. 

“Forever and ever.”

She pulled him down into a kiss full of teeth, but it quickly righted itself again into flesh and heavy breathing. She’d originally intended to make some joke about having him retest for the _actual sex part,_ but…well, she’d always been a believer in actions speaking louder than words. 


End file.
